"You're never gonna get tired of this, are you?" T asks Breanna, dropping onto the empty seat next to her. I take one too.
T and I had found each other in the hallway, way down the hallway, which means we walked down here together. And indeed it was the one of the most awkward, longest of walks i've ever had to take. While the silence felt uncomfortable, the trivial topics that could only last a millisecond were even worse. I mean, I like her. At least, she's one of the girls on the cheer team that I can actually relate to. Mostly quiet, not as arrogant, but the former quality - quiet - just made it a breath of fresh air once we finally got to the cafeteria were many other people were. The pressure to fill the air with forced conversation was unnerving.
"Not in this life." Brea smirks, her red lips forming a crescent smile on blotchy white skin as canvas. "Perhaps in the next." She finishes, returning to the spread-out cards on the table.
"Oh, she also believes in re-incarnation." T laughs to herself. I crack a smile. I take back part of what I said earlier. T's quiet, but at least she always tries to keep the air friendly. And that's what she did on our walk here too. I guess i'm just an awkward human misplacement.
"Do you also believe in destiny?" T asks.
Nadia comes around just then, taking our orders while asking me in our native language where the other girls are. After our brief encounter, she's gone. Then Brea responds.
"Do you believe in destiny?"
"Er," She turns to me. "How 'bout you, Melissa? Since Bri refuses to answer normally." The last part is a whisper, though not intended to be unheard.
"I've... I've never really thought about that kind of stuff."
She blinks.
My answer clearly isn't whatever she was expecting because she blinks again before finally regaining herself.
"Well, that's cool. Cool. Yes, most people don't think about those kind of things, I never did till Margo asked me yesterday. She said hers is to end up a stripper."
"So, do you believe in destiny?" Breanna presses on.
"I don't." she replies simply, flipping her partially wavy hair to the back whilst leaning in to rest her elbows on the table. "Clearly. I feel it's all up to you, you know? You kinda just fork your way through life."
"What if, how you 'fork your way through life' is the way you were destined to?"
T stares away from Breanna's static gaze. Because the words were meant for her. And not me.
Yet somehow I feel them plastered somewhere in my mind.
"Hey, you. You and you." Steph greets, giggling after. Her curly blonde hair is held up in a loose bun with a few curls hovering over her face. Next comes Samantha, Margo. And Amy. Eyes of most guys on the other table at the center, as well as others, follow them as they walk into the cafeteria till they're all settled round our table. Their orders are quickly taken while they discuss things the rest of us aren't in on. Or at least things that i'm not in on. That's until Amy invites me in.
"So, Melissa." She chimes, wiggling her brows when I stare to her. "I'll be dropping you off today."
Steph snorts, "Why'd you say it like that?"
"Almost sounded dirty." Her sister adds, fixing up her salad.
"It's the truth though. Pamela asked me to help out." Amy's eyes roll as she adds, "Only God knows how dirty your minds are to change something so clean."
"Sisters of the same mother." Sam sing-songs.
"Father."
"I think it's funny," Amy continues, bringing the attention back to herself. "Funny you don't have a car- aren't even allowed to drive, when it's your dad who runs Martinez works."
The whole table falls silent.
Although the rest of the cafeteria remains as noisy or even noisier than it was when we first walked in.
"I don't know, don't you think? Half the school get cars from there." She continues, laughing lightly. "It's just, I don't know, are we safe? Does he know something we don't?"
I'm thinking of a reply when T does on my behalf. "I don't think it's funny. But safe? The cars are safe, surely. I get all of mine from there. And, uh, as a father, it's safe too."
She shrugs, unwrapping a fork out from the serviette. Making sure to ignore the obvious stare we have on her as she continues.
"Most of the accidents around here, nine times out of ten, involve teens who clearly know nothing about driving. Like Pamela."
Steph fakes a cough to mask her laugh. Then goes, "Oh yes, it's true. Even Queen D never had a car."
Queen D, is actually my sister. The girl who's probably home right now binge-watching keeping up with the K's in ugly baggy clothings, was once one of Eastwood High's biggest thing. And unlike how most might feel, it used to be such a stress back then. Back when she hadn't graduated. Even talking to her was stressful, simple situations attracted the most attention. Really felt like I was under some kind of spotlight whenever I went around her.
Plus being constantly referred to as Danielle's younger sister wasn't exactly very... fancy. I'm glad the 'title' didn't follow me into the year after her graduation.
Ironic how I always end up having connections with the popular ones despite being nowhere on the food chain.
"She always hitched a ride with Natasha." Steph continues.
"God, Danielle-Soledad can literally be awarded the hottest girl on earth please." Sam chimes in, looking up at the ceiling in... awe? That feels like the wrongest statement I've ever heard. "I'd marry her if I were a guy."
"You could still marry her without being a guy." Margo steps in.
"Yeah, if I was gay."
"People think you are." Steph winks, though Sam doesn't seem amused.
"Please, it's the lowly mindset for me. How don't they get it that the fact that I chose wearing pants instead of some big ass ugly skirts, doesn't mean i'm gay."
"Cue the feminism."
"Our skirts aren't ugly." Brea says, coming in offended.
"Well, if you were a guy, i'm sure she wouldn't mind dating you. It's clear she doesn't mind playing with the younger ones."
My hands go stiff on my fork, and I stop chewing midway. When I look up, Amy has a coy smile directed right at me.
Of course, she'd find a way to bring that up.
Nathan is only months younger than my sister, but I guess, yes, since he was in a class below hers that makes him her junior. But still, it's never really been a problem to anyone but Amy.
"Melissa's also hot." Sam says, thankfully ignoring the last comment shared.
"H-O-T-T." Steph spells out in a giggle. "And yes I know it's one T."
The girls all look at me, and I can feel myself literally being between confused, pissed and frustrated. How long is break, by the way?
It's almost like we do more gossiping than eating whenever we're here.
"Though, she's hot in more like a... cute way." Sam continues talking about me in third person since obviously, I am not here. "The peach booty's there too."
Every girl laughs in one way or the other, except Amy and I. For the first time she and I share similar expressions. While I don't find 'peach booty' offensive, I've got to admit it was quite way too blunt.
For Amy, I can't exactly speak for her, but she wrinkles her nose up. "That's why everyone thinks you're gay."
"Oh please, It's called complimenting a fellow female. Must be something you wouldn't know of, I presume."
Steph fakes a cough, while Sam flips up a chip and catching it in-between her teeth. Completely undisturbed by Amy's dagger stare on her.
"Cue the feminism."
It'll be very understandable if Amy left me behind. When we met in Social science class- because I just happen to have more classes with her than anybody else in this entire damn planet - she told me why she had to drop me off, like she hadn't said it earlier already.
Although, I guess it took her saying it a second time for it to really sink in.
Thoughtful of Pamela to seek a ride for me, since she's still too sick to show up- but really? Was there nobody else besides Amy? Because it'll indeed be very understandable if she's left me behind.
I walk out of the final class of today that ended about five minutes ago, heading straight downstairs and to my locker. It's more crowded here than it was upstairs, for normal reasons. On getting to my locker, I shuffle through books - fixing some back in, in an arranged manner and dumping some into the frontal part of my backpack. Pamela's are in the second, and it's not just because she's sick. I've always done her homework for her, but to make it seem better, we both always deceive ourselves with the term, 'Only... helping out, okay? Only helping out. And just this once. - Yes, and from tomorrow I do it myself, I promise.'
My phone chimes in the wide pockets of my blazer and thankfully, for the first time, i'm not scared. I just place my bag on my feet, getting the phone out.
It's a text from a number asking where I am. I study it for a few seconds, noticing the number looks somewhat similar. I'm quick to check the members of the second other group chat i'm on, finding it's Amy's number.
I look around the hallway, searching for any blonde with her facial features so I don't have to respond. Not spotting her, despite the place now being nearly empty lets me know I might just have to text back.
Downstairs. You?
"Martinez." A voice calls behind me. Right behind me. So close that without the voice, the strong in-between female and male colone would already let me know who it was. Still I turn around, perfectly aware that i'll be met with a basket of brunette curls on a short face. And annoying large glasses.
Okay yes, the glasses aren't annoying, but they are large.
"George."
"Good." He gives a curt smile. "A word with you?" He asks in such a way that the only answer he expects to hear is a yes.
Once I nod, he leads me down the now totally empty hallway. George's not someone I've ever imagined to be a serial killer, but i'm still a bit hesitant in every step we make.
We get into our usual meeting room and without a warning, he turns to dump a pile of papers in my hands.
"Are-"
"One of us got sick. Uh, Talia? And this needs to be finished in a week, regardless."
"But.. what does that have to with me?"
He looks shocked, like he just expected me to take all of this in good faith, and leave soberly without a word. Although the shock, now that I look at it, is feigned.
He's quick to return his lips in that official smile. "It has every thing to do with you. You're a part of the team too, and if one's down, there's always you to help get us back up."
"I don't- wait yes, I get it, yet-"
"Or would you rather I asked someone else? I could." He blinks once at me. And I just want to tear his face apart. Right after screaming at him to indeed get assistance from someone else. But everything about this looks like him trying to create a loophole in my work.
So instead, I return his curt smile. "It's okay. I'll get around it."
He leaves almost immediately and even when i'm out the room, back to the hallway, I see his tall figure is completely out the school building. Then I inwardly scream. Not at him alone but for many reasons.
First, I don't trust Amy. There are so many excuses she could use tomorrow on why she couldn't take me home.
Which leads to second, I might have to wait a while for a ride home since Nathan's not around.
And third, this stupid pile of papers.
I angrily shove them into my locker, then lock it up. Yet i'm so much of a neat freak, that I'm putting in my combination to immediately unlock it, fixing the papers carefully so I don't have to deal with the mess tomorrow.
When all's done, I take out my phone again, waiting for a text from Amy. There's none.Of course, there'll be none. I refresh my messages over and over again but of course.
Choosing not to sulk, I make out a call to the most recent driver who's been dropping us off at school. I had to get his number this morning, and thank goodness I did.
"Need a ride?"
I just know my brain must've had a ten-second blackout before i'm able to calm myself enough to recognize the voice. I can already put a face to it, yet the face i'm met with once I turn around still manages beating whatever level of beauty I'd remembered.
He gets... better-looking every day.
Plus he's smiling today.
"Hey."
When Pamela and I got well-comfortable for me to consider her a friend, in a game of truths, I asked her once what her first impression of me was. She thought I was rude.
I'm shy. But I won't judge anyone who might think I'm rude. I sure won't judge Tyler if he thinks I am because whenever i'm not hyper, spilling out information that needs not be shared - I'm flat-out mute. In other words, rude. Even right now, I'm unable to say a thing to stop his rare smile from faltering so bad it goes back to his usual placid straight face.
I say a 'hi' in my head as he strolls up to his locker.
His locker.
All seniors have their lockers on the third floor.
"You have a locker down here?"
He finishes his actions before gracing me an answer. "Yeah."
I try not to look away when he stares at me, instead bracing myself up to say something. Something simple. Not mono, not hyper. "Thanks for the ride offer."
We're walking out of school together, him holding the door open while I walk out, when I try again for something simple. "You... you stay in school. Kinda long after." I wait for him to join me at the bottom of the stairs before adding. "Though, I'm just saying."
I wasn't expecting much of a reply, anyway, so it's okay when he says a quiet,"Something about empty buildings."
Getting into his car, I see through the windscreen that a petite redhead girl had been watching us. I'd actually thought Tyler and I were the last people around. But then again, I'd thought I was about the last person around, so there might just be many more people lingering around than I expect.
The girl's mouth stays agape and i'm conflicted between going out to help her shut it, or just staying put.
Tyler sliding into the car after me, makes me go for the second option.
And okay, I was never going to go with the first, that'd be even more awkward.
The ride, like yesterday's, remains silent with only the sound of other cars driving along the road. I've noticed he's not the type to turn on the radio or anything, and that's ... weirdly nice. Pamela always does. And we share very opposite music tastes.
He corners to the left.
Okay.
He corners to the left and not the right, don't panic.
I rub my hands together, placing them on my thighs in hopes to not panic. Or at least, not show that i'm panicking but why aren't we going home?
I-
Maybe he needs to buy gas. Though there's a gas station on our usual way. Or maybe he just needs to pick a truck up for repairs, or go to the gym, or buy some candy at target.
We don't even have target here.
I've always wondered what it'd be like to relate with all who shop at target on a regular.
Maybe he wants to sell me off to the mafia.
"Sorry, I need to meet up with a friend," he says calmly, like he hadn't just gifted me a whole heart-attack session.
Though it sounded almost like a question, I stay silent to that, quietly calming my nerves and thanking the heavens I didn't take matters into my hands, swerve the car off the road. I'd had a vivid imagination of me doing so - Where the hell do you think you're taking me to?!
"It's at an ice cream stop." He adds, almost seeming like persuasion for me to not state a blatant no and sass out of the car. Like I can. Like at this point, I can. I don't even know what road exactly we're on.
But the fact that it's an ice cream stop does make me feel better, however guilty as well. Ever since my family moved here and I met Pamela and Nathan, I've never eaten ice cream anywhere else but Grandpa Francis. So now I can't help but host a pang of guilt in my stomach. Although, it might just be hunger.
"Okay."
It doesn't take long till he's driving into a parking lot infront of a red-brick building with a slide glass door. There's a sign through the glass showing it's 'open' in shiny neon lights.
Tyler gives me a cue to follow him out of the car and I do, but freeze when the lady walking towards Tyler is someone I know.
Her hair is just like hers - chestnut brown, short, wavy and bouncing as she steps, her coffee-brown coat similar to the one I've seen on her before too. It's the same woman I always greet in the lobby of Nathan's apartment.
I've never agreed with flat-earth believers, but this clearly is more proof not to. Like grandpa always told my nana, the world is round.
It's crazy that of all the people he could have as friends, he chose a... woman. She's well into her twenties and while it's okay they're friends, I guess I kind of expected to see a guy around his age bouncing up to him in a varsity jacket or something.
I step out of the car to stand right by Tyler, flashing a smile at her. Although, unlike other times, she doesn't smile back. She doesn't even look my way and her countenance seems rather frightened. But covered up good by intimidating confidence. If I hadn't looked close enough, I would've missed it.
"Smile." She instructs on getting to us. Without even thinking, Tyler does and as perplexed as I am, I flash my biggest grin. "I have a feeling your dad followed me down here and might just know about the papers I was to give you." She pauses. "See the car back there?"
My eyes, and I suppose, Tyler's, follow the trail to the black truck parked a few feet away from ours. We both actually do that without making it obvious.
"It's Diego's." She completes, "So, alright now we're both gonna head in like we only came for ice cream, can we?"
Through out the whole speech, she's been smiling, like she wasn't here spilling some random words that've left me totally and utterly confused.
Well, clearing his throat, Tyler speaks up for the first time, "This is Melissa."
Her eyes widen as she realises she'd been saying all that infront of me. Or maybe she's surprised at how oblivious she was, I don't know.
"Hi, i'm so sorry, oh my goodness. That was badly rude and stupid of me." She says in her thick accent.
I shake my head in disapproval of the need for any apology, regardless of how I actually feel, smiling in response. This time she smiles back.
"Melissa meet Kelly, Kelly - Melissa." He introduces.
At this point we both know this isn't our first meeting, and she screws in the point by saying, "So we know the names now, huh?"
"I suppose,"
Tyler's eyebrows probably knit in confusion as he stares down at us, but he let's it slide and proceeds ushering us into the building. Soft aroma of
pastries and ice cream the first thing we're met with. Just like in Grandpa Francis.
We get comfortable on a cold leather four seater booth, Tyler and I on one side while Kelly stays opposite. After the waiter serves our ice cream, my order looking more gluttonic than theirs... well, we dig in. Or rather, I dig in. They keep on talking in hushed tones, Kelly doing more of the talking while Tyler listens tentatively.
And without making it obvious, I do too.
Not that I exactly get a thing they're saying. It's either they're speaking in codes, or i'm really not as smart as I thought.
"He's walked in." She whispers, "God, he's walked in. I knew it. Don't look back." she warns just as Tyler and I were going to turn around.
"Diego?" He asks.
"Diego," she replies, smiling like we were talking about Dora's cousin, and not the scary towering figure I see when I do find a way to turn around.
The man, Diego, has a dark aura around him and it's not just due to the long black coat on black pants. Neither is it the black eye patch over his left eye. There's just something about him. Who is this man?
A shiver runs through my spine when his uncovered eye stares right back at me.
I quickly turn back around. But this time with a different question on my mind.
Who is Tyler's dad?